Breathing Towers To Heaven
by A.V Storm
Summary: Color drabble challenge on Queen Elsa and her life. Elsacentric. Rut rohhh. Lots of Anna, King, and Queen cameos.
1. 001 Blue

**Author's Notes**:  
I really like writing Elsa, so... I'm starting this. A colors drabble/one-shot challenge, harharhar.

Most of these will be focused on Elsa's life prior to Frozen/my headcanons. You're welcome, I guess. I like writing about Elsa/Anna's parents and Elsa/Anna in general.

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_001. Blue_

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Learning to control the magic that bent out of shape in her fingertips had never been easy, but a young Princess Elsa would have done anything to learn just that: _control_.

She was a young girl of twelve, profile just that of her mother's. The older she became, the more that the queen's features formulated to her profound azure eyes, high set cheekbones, and slim lips. Her fingers arched carefully over the top of the windowsill in her bedroom. She stood upright and firm; the posture that she wore was as rigid as her stiff shoulders, bearing impeccable testimony to her upbringing as the future queen of Arendelle.

Slowly, a little gust of breath passed between her lips, leaving an air of fog over her reflection in the window. The thin trace of blonde eyebrows hidden behind her hair furrowed together, until finally, she had the bravery to remove the concealment over her hands.

The gloves meant protection as much as they did secrecy. Four years had passed since her father had presented them to her, in an attempt to restrain her powers. In just that span of time, they had become a friend to her; a source of protection that no one could offer, not even her parents. And the times that a young Elsa would have removed them were infrequent, unless she was alone.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes narrowed. The fabric clung to her hands in protest, but she finally discarded of them; dumping them promptly on the floor beside her. In the end, her gaze focused, pressing each of her hands up against the glass of the window. Shapes of different frosty blues began to emit from her fingertips, swirling up over the window. She fought for that control again, like she had since she had harmed her sister...

Gritting her teeth behind her lips, Elsa focused harder than ever. The frost grew into a thick sheet of ice as she forced the element to move back and forth into zigzags over the window. But the longer that her powers pursued, she felt her grip slacken and her mind whirl from panic. And once she jumped back from the fear that came clenching up her throat, the glass began to crackle. In a frenzy, the young girl tugged away, only shielding herself in time from the shards that came from up above her.

Horrified, Elsa looked up to see the damage done. Her pulse raced painfully against her throat, clasping her hands in front of her at the window that was no more.

And before she knew it, her parents had thrown the door open from behind her.

"What happened?!" The king asked, examining the damage done. His voice was nothing short of a demand, causing the princess to cover up her face in deep shame.

"I-I... I was just trying to learn to control them... I'm sorry."

The stammered explanation was very unpracticed by a girl who felt that she could do nothing more than fail. But to her pleasant surprise, Elsa felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder. And when she looked up to find her father there, kneeling beside her, he bore the smallest smile of tenderness to convey that she had done nothing wrong.

"Oh, Elsa... It's just a window. A thing..." The smile grew marginally when his arm came around her shoulders. "And you're far more important than a thing."


	2. 002 White

**Author's Notes**:  
I will be updating The New Patron Saints And Angels soon and probably A Winter's Tale. For now, I've been busy reading A Song Of Ice and Fire before season four of Game of Thrones returns. ;) (I also really like developing Elsa's character via drabbles.)

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_002. White_

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It had been a little more than an hour since the Queen of Arendelle had delivered the first child to be born to the majesties of the kingdom.

The bells clanked heavily over the valley that was helplessly painted by a scenery of winter; signifying to the kingdom that its first princess had been born. The death of December had welcomed a healthy baby girl to the king and queen, who marveled over the beauty of their newborn. She was small, wrapped elegantly in a white blanket while sleeping soundlessly against her mother's chest. The young queen looked pale and clammy on the bed in the nursery, drought with the exhaustion that labor had provided her. But there was a gleam and love in her eye that kept her lips forming a smile that hadn't yet faded since the infant had been delivered.

Erstwhile, the king stayed close beside her. He bore his typical uniform as any king would, but his normally stern set expressions had softened at the sight of the baby. She was everything that he had ever imagined that she would be. Ivory-skinned, like her mother despite that her cheeks were flushed from the cries that she had made. Her hair was thin, but it was a shocking shade of white-blonde, slightly wavy around her tiny ears...

"What will we name her?"

The king looked up to find his wife's face eager for an answer. It had been a question that had occurred between the royal couple many times, but not one that they had decided on promptly yet.

"I like Lucia, after your mother..." The king encouraged, recalling that the title had been offered once before.

But it caused the queen to lift an eyebrow at her husband. A frank smile stretched over the span of her thin lips - as if she might have grown amused - before glancing down at the baby again. "She doesn't look like a Lucia."

The king exhaled, running a hand smoothly through his hair. He mentally marveled over any names that they had liked before, but could only recall one that seemed to fit.

"What about... Elsa?" He suggested. Slowly, he lowered his head to press his lips against the baby's soft head. "It means 'oath of God."

And to his satisfaction, the queen agreed with him. She smiled even wider when the baby made a little noise in her sleep upon the feeling of her father's lips against her. But she did not stir, and so, the queen simply nodded in agreement.

"Elsa it is."


	3. 003 Silver

Idk. I just really like writing Elsa and her parents.

If anyone has any suggestions, feel free to make them.

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_003. Silver_

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Princess Elsa had been a little more than four months old when her powers began to show.

As it were, the infant had fallen ill; complimented by a fever that kept her wailing through the nights within the castle for several days. The nurses had taken to the crying in favor of the queen and king during the evenings, but no one could soothe the tiny child better than her parents. They often swore that there was a mysterious ice that had formed patterns over the blankets with the crying princess when she had slept in her crib, but such accusations had seemed absolutely nonsensical to the king and queen.

It wasn't until one evening when the king had been sleeping soundly in his bedchamber next to his wife that little Elsa's wailing had begun to fill the empty corridors again. With a sigh, the king clambered tiredly out of bed, telling his queen to resume her sleep before he sauntered out onto the hardwood floor. They echoed against the vaulted walls until he found the nursery. One of the higher maid servants named Hilda stood over the crib with a candlestick lit over the child, but the king told her to fetch him a bottle before he came in front of the child himself.

The princess was fussy, red-faced, and loud. Her sniffles only deterred ever so slightly when the king gently reached down underneath her head and back to pull her into his waiting arms.

"Darling Elsa..." He whispered through the dim light, bundling the blankets closer to her. "Calm down, papa's here... Shh."

The king then relocated himself in the rocking chair of the nursery, holding the infant close to his chest. Her sobbing reduced minimally as he rocked her, feeling across her burning forehead and cheeks. Eventually it was Hilda who returned with the bottle that he had requested, and only then did the baby finally calm down to an extent. She peered up at him curiously as she drank - one tiny hand clutching his forefinger - but it wasn't so long thereafter when her eyelids began to droop.

"There, there... You're going to be fine, Elsa." The king spoke gently, continuing the mantra of rocking the blanketed child in his arms. A proud smile was worn by the father that night, observing her fair-skin from the candle light.

He had just begun to rearrange her tiny stature against his shoulder when a strange blistering cold formed over his finger. From shock, he pulled his hand back to find that where Elsa's hand had been to observe that a silver gleam of ice had completely enveloped where it had been only seconds before.

And then he knew - from that moment on - that Princess Elsa of Arendelle was far more special than he had ever thought possible.


End file.
